


Welcome to Aobajousai High

by lahdolphin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Welcome to Night Vale Setting, Awkward Flirting, Gen, Science Fiction, Supernatural Elements, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8059468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahdolphin/pseuds/lahdolphin
Summary: “A friendly high school where the classes are long, the cheerleaders flicker in and out of existence, and mysterious creatures roam the halls while we all pretend to study. Welcome to Aobajousai High!” (A not so spooky fic for Halloween.)





	1. The Transfer Student

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to Nightvale is a strange podcast where the laws of time and space don't really apply. So just roll with it, accept this fic for what it is, and try not to think too much about the time that passes.
> 
> Also shout-out to randomprose and amane-yasuchika for looking at this fic and listening to me while I screamed into the void. You guys are awesome.

“A friendly high school where the classes are long, the cheerleaders flicker in and out of existence, and mysterious creatures roam the halls while we all pretend to study. Welcome to Aobajousai High!”

Oikawa pressed the large purple button on his dashboard, listened to the gentle intro tune, and swiveled in the chair of his broadcast station while he waited for the tune to end. Oikawa grabbed the mic by the neck and spoke in a joyous tone:

“Welcome back listeners! I hope you all had a _fantastic_ summer. I know I did. I spent many nights staring at the stars, contemplating my tiny place in the universe and wondering if the mysterious flying saucers in the sky would finally take me aboard, and doing my mandated schoolwork!

“I suppose I should introduce myself to our new listeners. I am Oikawa Tooru, a third year in Class 6. In case you’ve lost your school map but you still want to ask me for an autograph, Class 6 is on the third floor, next to the room that is always smoking, but before the room with the eerie purple light and gurgling noises. Better yet, come to my broadcasting room since I am forbidden from stepping foot into Class 6.

“And while I am welcoming our new listeners, I want to remind all of you that we are accepting applications for interns! Now, I know the posters we have up are a bit intimidating. Hanamaki, our head of advertising, could have used a better term than ‘fresh meat.’ Also, ‘must be disposable’ should _not_ have been a required trait.”

Oikawa looked up through the glass window above his desk and saw Hanamaki shrug.

“I am most certainly not disposable, but I do just fine, which goes to show you can’t always believe what you see on school posters!"

Oikawa smiled happily and pretended he did not see Hanamaki roll his eyes.

“Besides, I don’t want our new students to get the wrong idea about our wonderful little school. We are accepting of people from many backgrounds, regardless of freshness and disposability. We try our best to be accommodating here at Aobajousai High and I look forward to seeing all of your applications! Though I must warn you: we are very picky. And by picky, I mean that we if you don’t send an application in and we still want you, you’ll be assigned to our club by the overseeing staff. Isn’t that wonderful?

“Now, if you're astute, you may notice that I am using the term ‘new listeners’ instead of ‘first years.’ That’s because this year, we have a transfer student! He is in my very own class, or so I’ve heard. I don’t know who he is, or his name, or if he is a person at all! Could he be one of those creatures that roam the streets at night? Ohh, that would be exciting, wouldn’t it?"

Oikawa wistfully imagined an alien sitting at a desk. According to the local government, aliens did not exist, but those green-skinned creatures with all black eyes and elongated fingers that roamed the streets at night had to be given some sort of a name, didn’t they? Could you give a name to something that most certainly did not exist?

Oikawa thought it would be very exciting to have an alien in class. He loved the green-skinned creatures and the unnatural lights from the saucers that roamed the night sky.

Oikawa went on without pause:

“I have not met him because I have not been to class yet even though the rest of you are in the middle of first period. I hope you are all paying attention to your lessons, though I know distractions can be hard to ignore. For example, the scratch of chalk against the board, or our lovely math teacher flying up and down the hall, squawking as she leaves behind a trail of bright red feathers and your graded summer homework; not to mention all those pesky hormones that make you love me! Trust me, listeners, I know it’s hard to pay attention with all of that going on, but make sure you do your best or you’ll end up in the principal’s office.”

Oikawa shivered at the mere thought of the principal’s office. He had been called there once, when he had first been transferred to the radio club. He had not entered—no one _entered_ the principal’s office—but he had stood outside the glowing door and read the note that had been pushed through the keyhole.

He put on a smile, picked up the microphone, and leaned back in his chair to continue his broadcast.

“I hope all of you first years—and our fascinating, _mysterious_ new transfer student that may or may not be an alien—enjoy your first day of mandatory learning. But now that introductions are over, on to the school news!”

As he finished his sentence cheerfully, a piece of paper was slipped underneath his door.

“Excuse me for a moment, listeners. I believe I have just been given an update.”

He carefully took off his headphones, made sure he would not trip over the cable to his microphone, and then went to retrieve the piece of paper. There was a series of strange symbols written in a dark red ink that was likely blood, though Oikawa did not know whose blood. 

 

 

 

The symbols were followed by a translation in Matsukawa’s handwriting.

 

The new interns are listed inside.  
Report immediately.  
IMMEDIATELY.

(Oikawa,  
I’m not sure if the last line was actually in capitals because ancient forbidden runes don’t have capital letters.  
I think it adds to the effect, though.  
Much more dramatic.  
Platonic love, Matsukawa Issei)

 

Oikawa smiled and hurried back to his seat, humming as he put his headphones back on and grabbed his mic. He opened up the note, which Matsuwaka had dutifully translated for him.

“I was just asked by our staff to announce that this years interns have already been selected! Isn’t it impressive that our omnipotent, ever-present, overseeing staff is so punctual? I think we should all strive to be so timely in every thing that we do. I know I try my best to be so timely. For example, I go to bed every night at eleven after the lights from the mysterious objects in the sky have passed over my bed, meaning I was safe and sadly, not chosen."

Oikawa looked back at the note. 

“Without further ado, the first years selected are Kunimi Akira in Class 6 and Kindaichi Yuutarou in Class 5. Congratulations on being selected! These lucky interns will need to report to the broadcast room during lunch. Please bring all of your belongings, as you will not be returning to your classroom ever again. I am sure you will both do a wonderful job and I look forward to meeting you soon!”

Oikawa set down the note.

“Speaking of lunch,” he said, wearing a large smile and spinning idly in his chair, “it’s time I went over today’s lunch menu. Today the cafeteria is serving mixed vegetables, rice, meat from a local creature farm, and your choice of water, milk, or air. For dessert there will be spider cakes and actual spiders. Quite a nutritious meal! I don’t know about you, but I will be getting my hands on a spider cake, though I may pass on the actual spiders. They’re a bit too _crawly_ for my taste.

“Oh, but the wait in line for spider cake always takes ages. Perhaps a lovely fan will bring me a slice?”

Oikawa heard a gentle tap of the glass and looked up at the window above his desk. Hanamaki was holding a piece of paper up against the glass.

“’Make the interns wait in line,’” Oikawa read. “That’s a great idea! Kindaichi, Kunimi, please do not report to the broadcast room until you have gotten one”—Hanamaki held up three fingers—“no, _three_ pieces of spider cake. It’s your first assignment as interns. How exciting!”

Hanamaki gave him a thumbs up and then sat back at his desk to continue his work. The third piece had to be Matsukawa, Oikawa thought.

“As I was saying before I was led astray by the new interns and dessert: _news.”_

Oikawa paused momentarily to look at his notes.

“Let’s start with today’s club announcements.

“The archery club is accepting new members. The positions available are: archer, arrow carver, moving target, stationary target, and team manager.

“The gardening club is asking that students refrain from petting the Venus fly traps, as they have grown to an unsettling size and are now capable of biting your hand and dissolving your flesh. I think this is a very unfair announcement as Venus flytraps are simply _adorable_ with their fangs, and low-pitched growling, and flesh-dissolving saliva. How are we supposed to walk by and not pet them?

“The underwater basket weaving club reminds us all that their name is ‘underwater basket weaving society,’ but we will continue to ignore this name change as it is simply ridiculous.

“The volleyball team is accepting applications. Please fill out the form taped underneath your desk and bring it to the volleyball coach after lunch. Friendly reminder: do not disturb the volleyball coach during lunch or you may not return. He gets very jumpy when feeding and may mistake you for dessert.

“Speaking of food consumption rituals, the cooking club is requesting ingredients. That is all they wanted me to say. _Ingredients._ They did not specify what ingredients. I wonder what they’re making. I hope it’s milk bread. I do love milk bread. Please keep that in mind when you are thinking about which gifts to give me for Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Abduction Remembrance Day, Radio Host Appreciation Day, and my birthday on July 20th!

“Oh. Hang on a second. It appears I miss read the cooking club’s announcement. The cooking club did not ask you to bring ingredients; they asked you to _be_ the ingredients, which makes much more sense. This is _so_ embarrassing. I cannot believe I misread such a simple announcement. If you are interested in being an ingredient, please contact the head chef.

“And that’s it for today’s club announcements.”

Oikawa flipped the page of his notes.

“It’s lunch time here at Aobajousai High. Isn’t it strange how our days revolve around shoving bits and pieces of organic matter into our mouths so that we do not wither and perish? I wonder if aliens—in a purely theoretical sense since _aliens do not exist_ —eat and if they did, what they would eat. Perhaps stars sustain them; perhaps the people they take from their homes that we do not talk about sustain them; perhaps they sustain themselves.

“While you eat, please enjoy [the weather](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKggxiLaBmI%20).”

Oikawa turned off his microphone, switched on the weather, and stretched his arms above his head. He let out a small noise when his muscles stretched just right and then brought his arms back down. He rose from his chair and made for the research room.

There were two doors in his tiny broadcast room: one that led to the hallway and another that led to a research room where the rest of the radio club members worked. Oikawa complained to the advisor that it made no sense to have the broadcast room before the research room, but the advisor merely melted into the floor, which meant Oikawa’s comment was ignored.

Oikawa walked into the tiny research room where he saw Hanamaki at his desk. He was surrounded by tiny mountains of rolled up pieces of paper, likely stories that did not make the cut. Hanamaki gave him a loose salute and Oikawa grinned and waved as he passed. 

The research room was small and simple with a few desks and a large sofa. The microwave was still crusted shut after that incident with the tentacle noodle soup, but the refrigerator was working just fine for a change. There was also a new bubbling, glow pile of blue goop in the corner near the trashcan. The blue goop was slowly over taking the school so it was nothing to worry about.

Oikawa sprawled out on the old, battered couch and listened to the weather report coming in through the overhead speakers.

“I hope the new interns come soon,” Oikawa said. “After they bring us cake, I can send them for tea. I want mine with honey. I need to keep my voice as beautiful as my face.”

“Issei already went on a tea run,” Hanamaki replied. “He’s stealing from the student government again."

Oikawa smiled and tapped his feet to the weather.

After some time, there was a gentle knock at the door, which reverberated through the research room in a booming echo that neither Oikawa or Hanamaki flinched at. They had been in the radio club for some time now and were used to the deafening sound caused by polite manners.

When the door opened, there were two strangers covered in cobwebs and furry black spiders. One of them was holding three white boxes while the other tugged calmly at the cobwebs in his hair.

“The fresh meat is here,” Hanamaki said with a wicked grin.

“Stop calling them that!” Oikawa said. “It’s not funny after what happened to last year’s interns.”

“I think that makes it funnier.”

Oikawa sighed. He got up and crossed the room, smiling pleasantly at the interns, and took the boxes from the one boy’s hand. He set the boxes down on Hanamaki’s desk and opened the one on top, revealing a thick piece of chocolate cake with chocolate chips and pale purple icing—spider cake.

“Excellent,” Oikawa said, picking up the piece and taking a large bite. He turned back to the interns, who were brushing at the arachnids off of their clothes. Oikawa watched the creatures scurry to the corners and under the desks. “Please don’t leave your spiders in this room. They’re so… _crawly_.”

Hanamaki got a piece of cake, perched himself on top of his desk, and looked at the interns. “What’re your names again? We’d give you nametags, but they burn holes through your clothes and get permanently attached to your skin, so we only use those if your name is really hard to remember.”

“I’m Kindaichi!” one of them said. He had been the one carrying the boxes.

"That's pretty hard," Hanamaki said with a teasing grin. "But I think we'll manage without a nametag. And you?"

The other grumbled, “I’m Kunimi.”

Oikawa waved before Hanamaki could scare them any further. “Yoohoo. I’m Oikawa Tooru, Aobajousai High’s beloved radio host. My star sign is cancer, my favorite food is milk bread, and my past times include stargazing, talking to my fans, and volleyball."

Kindaichi rubbed the back of his head. “I was actually wondering about that. I came here for the volleyball club and I heard you were the setter. Why are you here?”

These first year interns were going to be good.

Too good.

“There was an incident,” Oikawa said, waving his hand flippantly, like it did not hurt to say such a thing. He gestured to Hanamaki, who was licking icing from his fingers. “This is Hanamaki. He’s in charge of our advertising—flyers, facebook, twitter, the rocks we throw through your windows, that sort of thing.”

“Issei—err, Matsukawa is out getting tea,” Hanamaki said. “He handles our supervisors and all the red tape. If you see a guy walking around with giant scissors, that’s probably Issei.”

“I thought red tape was an expression,” Kindaichi said, confused.

Hanamaki smiled. “So innocent. So pure. This year is gonna be _fun_.”

“You two,” Oikawa said with a wide smile, “will be in charge of research. You’ll go out around the school, find stories, and report back here. You’ll also be making tea, getting us food, fighting off the shadows that attack when we aren’t looking, and other fun things! You can start by cleaning the glowing blue goop in the corner. Apparently it’s toxic. Better be careful!”

Hanamaki looked at Oikawa. “Isn’t the weather almost over?”

Oikawa looked at the clock, realized that Hanamaki was right, and quickly finished his cake.

Kindaichi looked at the clock on the wall and furrowed his eyebrows. “How did a three minute song take over twenty minutes to finish?”

“Just accept it,” Kunimi said. “Time is weird.”

Hanamaki pointed at Kunimi. “This kid gets it.”

“Hanamaki, show the interns where the gloves and hazmat suits are—they may need them to clean the goop.”

Oikawa grabbed a napkin from on top of the microwave, wiped his mouth, and then went back into his broadcast room.

As he settled into his seat, Matsukawa entered the room with several paper cups stacked on top of one another. He set one on Oikawa’s desk and then disappeared into the research room. There was an aggressively large font on the edge of the paper cup that read: "Stop stealing from the student government." Oikawa ignored it, as per usual.

Oikawa sipped his tea as the weather finished then turned on his microphone.

“It is now time to resume our broadcast,” Oikawa announced. “Over lunch, I met our new interns. I have them cleaning that strange blue goop that has been appearing all over the school. While it is very pretty, no one knows where the goop began, or how it is spreading, or what it is, but we do know that it is very dangerous. I hope our interns survive. Just in case: feel free to keep sending in applications! We have a rolling admission program in case something happens to the previous interns, so don’t give up hope!”

Then, there was a knock at the door.

“Listeners, someone is knocking on my door. How rude. Can’t they see the giant glowing sign that reads ‘live’?”

There was another knock on the window above his desk. Hanamaki had written something on a piece of paper and was showing it to Oikawa, who wondered how Hanamaki managed to write so quickly.

Could he see the future? Did he research room exist in a bubble of time that was several seconds ahead of the broadcast room? The possibilities were endless.

Hanamaki’s note read: _Light is broken._

“Ah,” Oikawa said. “My apologizes to the not-rude stranger. I have just been informed the light is broken. One moment, listeners.”

Oikawa took off his headphones, turned off his mic, and got up to answer the door.

When he opened the door and saw a boy with spiked hair on the other side, Oikawa felt his stomach turn upside down. Hopefully it did not literally turn upside down because that had happened to him as a child and it had taken a month to heal.

The boy was wearing the short sleeve version of their uniform and it showed off his thick, muscular arms. His eyebrows were a little unruly, but nothing a good plucking wouldn’t take care of. And his eyes, Oikawa thought wistfully, were the color of chocolate and the damp dirt around the lake infested with flesh-eating bacteria. The boy was _perfect_.

Oikawa fell in love instantly.

“Hiya,” Oikawa said, his voice squeaking.

His face heated red in embarrassment. Hiya? He was in front of a gorgeous specimen, a god among men, and he said _hiya_? He was a failure as a radio host.

The boy rubbed the back of his head. “Uh, you don’t look like the volleyball coach.” He paused. “Or maybe you are the coach? This school is weird.”

Oh no, his voice was perfect too! 

Oikawa shook his head. “They’re across the hall.”

“Why would the volleyball coach’s office be across from whatever this is?” The boy leaned to the side to get a better look over Oikawa’s shoulder. He exhaled and Oikawa could imagine smoke coming out of his nose like he was an angry cartoon bull. “Are you the annoying guy who’s been on the loud speaker all day?”

Oikawa frowned, offended. “It’s my job to inform the public. I’m the radio host!”

“You’ve been talking all day,” the boy said, irritated. “I’ve been in class, trying to listen to my teachers, and you’ve been talking at the same time. What's wrong with this school?”

“I don’t know what schools you’ve been to before, but I can assure you this school is very normal.” Oikawa gasped. “Are you the new transfer student? It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Oikawa Tooru. I run the—“

“The radio,” the boy cut in, voice sharp. “Yeah. I got that.”

“It’s rude not to tell someone your name when they so kindly introduce themselves.”

The boy cocked his head and glared at him. “Huh?”

“Your name,” Oikawa said, waving his arms widely in case the boy was confused by what he meant. “It’s a random assortment of letters or symbols that somehow identify you.”

“I know what a name is!”

Oikawa smiled. “Oh, good. I thought you might be an idiot.”

The boy continued to glare. “It’s Iwaizumi Hajime.”

“Iwa-chan? What a lovely name!”

Iwaizumi’s eye twitched cutely. “No. It’s Iwaizu—“

“Anyways, Iwa-chan, the volleyball coach’s office is right across the hall,” Oikawa said pointing over Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Are you going to join the club? Our team is very good. We haven’t managed to beat our rival in some time, though. I blame _Ushijima_.”

Oikawa said the boy’s name like it was most disgusting thing in the universe and it _was_ the most disgusting to Oikawa.

“I broadcast the sporting games, you know,” Oikawa said without pause. “The interns set up a little bench for me, and I sit with my microphone, and make comments so the entire school can follow along! No one else is actually allowed to attend sporting games except the players and me, but the principal still wants the school to support our athletic teams. The volleyball team is my _favorite_.”

Iwaizumi sighed. “Right. Okay. I don’t know why I’m surprised after the day I’ve had. You said the office is behind me?” Iwaizumi jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

Oikawa nodded in confirmation. “Just tell the coach I sent you. He likes me. He probably won’t eat you if you mention my name.”

“Thanks, I guess?”

Oikawa made a tiny noise of acknowledgement and nodded. When Iwaizumi turned to find the volleyball coach’s office, Oikawa closed the door and hurried back to his desk. Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Kindaichi, and Kunimi gave him curious looks from the other side of the window. Kindaichi and Kunimi were now wearing white hazmat suits, ready to fight off the blue goop. 

Oikawa put on his headphones, switched on his mic, and said:

“Listeners, I have drastic news, perhaps the most important news of the day. I have met the new transfer student. He talked to me about the volleyball club. After our brief conversation, I have come to the conclusion that the new transfer student must be an alien, or some other unnamable creature that does not exist. _No one_ is that perfect—except for me.”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa were laughing, Kindaichi looked embarrassed, and Kunimi rolled his eyes. Oikawa glared at them.

“This is no laughing matter! There is a perfect alien among us. Sure, his skin was a pleasant sun-kissed tan instead of a sickly cilantro green, and his eyes were not solid black like the endless void, but he was perfect like the aliens.

“If you’re listening, Iwa-chan, I am onto your ploy, whatever it is. Also, please forget that I said ‘hiya.’ I was flustered.”

Oikawa cast a quick glance at the clock.

“Listeners, I am afraid that my broadcast needs to come to an end. Time is a such a strange concept, isn’t it? Just moments ago, lunch was ending and now the school day has come to an end. But I hope you enjoyed your time here at Aobajousai High. I hope the first years did not accidentally walk in front of the math teacher, I hope the cheerleaders managed to exist in this plane of existence for their lessons, and I hope our transfer student found the volleyball coach when he was in a good mood.

“Until tomorrow, my fellow students, I bid you adieu!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would really appreciate it if you let me know what you think! :)
> 
> So I have a rule that I will not post a fic until it is finished. This fic has five chapters, but I only have the first two written. But obviously, I'm posting it. I'm a very busy person and this is meant to be for Halloween (I'll post the second chapter later in the month, or sooner if I finish the third chapter soon) so I wanted to post it in October. I'm a student so I'm really busy and I'm not quite sure when this fic will get finished. I'm not going to promise that it will because I have a bad track record with that. But we shall see. Luckily each chapter is pretty much stand-alone and there is no cliffhanger. 
> 
> The weather is Calgary by Bon Iver. The artist who write Calgary has said this about the song: "It's about what you don't know. It's a hopeful song, kind of like a wedding vow song for someone you've never met. It's saying 'Look, if I do end up running into you along the line, I don't know who you are, but I feel like there's someone out there, in whatever sense of true love I still believe in after all the shit I've been through', it's inviting that mystery into your life and believing in it."


	2. The Math Teacher

“If a volleyball hits the court and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? If the volleyball crashes through the floor and enters the infinite darkness of time and space, is there anyone to hear it? Welcome to Aobajousai High!”

Oikawa pressed the large purple button, muted his microphone, and hummed along to the intro tune. While he waited, he looked through the window above his station desk into the research room.

Hanamaki was at his desk while Matsukawa lounged on the couch and wrote on a legal pad with a large peacock quill instead of a pen. The first year interns were nowhere to be seen, as they were out stealthily following the math teacher. Oikawa hoped they returned. He needed that story!

“Hello, listeners! As I’m sure you’re all aware, it’s the rainy season! Get ready to practice your dodging skills. Those armadillos and lizards falling from the sky can _hurt_. Or, if you’re not quick footed enough to dodge the creatures, you can pull out a reinforced, extra heavy-duty umbrella! The raindrops make a very pleasant sound against the metal and you’ll be protected from any falling animals!”

Oikawa remembered his walk to school and leaned his elbows against the edge of his desk, talking wistfully into the microphone.

“On my walk to school this morning, I passed the green-skinned creatures with black eyes and elongated fingers. I pretended not to see them and did not make eye contact, as is required. Because of the rain, a few tiny lizards bounced off my umbrella. So at this point, nothing out of the ordinary.

“Then I ran into our transfer student, Iwa-chan. He was holding the lid of a trashcan above his head. He was _obviously_ not prepared for the rainy season so, being the kind radio host I am, I offered to share my umbrella with him. He looked a bit annoyed, or maybe he was constipated—you should eat more fiber, Iwa-chan—but after complaining about how ‘weird’ and ‘freaky’ the weather in this town is, he agreed to come under my umbrella!

“We talked for a bit about school, and the rain, and volleyball. Somehow, we started talking about aliens because he remembered how much I love them—how sweet is that? But Iwa-chan seemed to have some conspiracy theories about aliens. He told me that he thought aliens were _real_. He told me he saw one just moments before he ran into me!

“Now, I love aliens and the strange ships and lights that fly ahead at night, but I know they do not actually exist. So I laughed and told him, ‘Iwa-chan, the green-skinned creatures aren’t aliens. Aliens don’t exist!’”

“He stared at me, his confused gaze so perfect, and then an armadillo fell onto the top of my umbrella, denting the metal, and it was _perfect_.”

Oikawa sat up straight, grabbed his microphone, and began to spin idly in his chair.

“Now, as you know, the rainy season coincides the math teachers’ molting season. Our lovely math teacher, who is covered in red plumage with bright cyan accents, has begun to molt! This is a very exciting time, but also a very dangerous time. Here are a few school-approved precautions you can take to stay safe during these difficult times.

“Number one. Never be alone in the hallway, least you make a wrong turn and the math teacher catch you by yourself.

“Number two. If you are in a situation where you run into the math teacher, do not meet her golden eyes or comment on the perfect curve of her beak. If you met her eyes, you may not return. If you comment on her beak, she will likely look you in the eyes to return your compliment, so be careful not to be too courteous today.

“Number three. If she wants your hair for her nest, let her take it. Our math teacher is an excellent hair stylist! She took my hair first year and I have not changed my hairstyle since. Then again, my hair has not grown since the incident, but it looks _wonderful_.”

Oikawa shivered in fear at number four.

“Number four. Do not ask her when your algebra homework is due because she will tell you that you have already missed the deadline.

“And number five. Do not touch the feathers that litter the hallways. They will turn your skin burning red and soon you too will become _a math teacher_. Not that there’s anything _wrong_ with being a math teacher. Math helps us understand the world we live in. While the job is rewarding and very crucial, it is much better to choose to become a math teacher than to be forced into it.

“Listeners, if you must travel the halls, make sure to listen to our broadcasts. I have our first year interns, Kindaichi and Kunimi, out tracking the math teacher’s movements! Hanamaki helped them gain access to the radio club’s twitter account so they can tweet about the math teacher’s location. I am also told to remind you that it is forbidden to use cell phones, beepers, or messenger pigeons during lessons. Therefore, I will make sure to relay the information to you!”

Oikawa picked up his notes, turned the page, and skimmed what he had to say next.

“Just in case those flyers located every five feet weren’t enough to catch your attention, the student government wanted me to announce that they are holding a fundraiser! They will be selling candy bars, including milk chocolate, dark chocolate, salted caramel, eldritch cream, biohazardous waste, actual lava, and cookies and cream.

“All proceeds will go towards buying a new vice-president. If you recall, their last vice-president was thrown into the pool as some sort of prank. Our last vice-president short-circuited and exploded. I have no idea who could have done it.”

He looked up into the research room at Matsukawa, who was pointedly not looking at the broadcast room.

“Because if I knew, I would have to report this person to the student government and they would surely be punished. But again, I have _no idea_.”

Matsukawa gave him a thumbs up.

“Personally, listeners, I think the student government has enough hall monitors and officers. Their president was upgraded to the latest model last year! Our president now has two heads, four arms, and is capable of entering the principal’s office without being transported to another plane of existence. What more does the robotic student government want? I think the entire system is outdated.

“That being said, I will most _definitely_ be buying some eldritch cream bars when the officers make their afternoon rounds. They are delicious and very well priced!”

Oikawa’s phone buzzed on his desk. He picked it up and saw a twitter update.

“Listeners, we’ve received the first update from interns Kindaichi and Kunimi. Oh exciting! I bet you can hardly wait. I know I can’t! Let’s see what it says…”

Oikawa quickly read the tweet.

 

_The math teacher is on the second floor looking into class B. She hasn’t moved for five minutes. –Kindaichi_

 

“Okay, listeners, it seems like the math teacher is on the second floor by class B. She is not moving, merely looking into the classroom through the windows. For those of you in class B on the second floor, please do not be alarmed. Simply refrain from looking out into the hall. Focus on your lessons as you usually do and you will be fine—your wonderful radio host promises!"

Oikawa looked at the time on his phone before setting it down.

“It’s that time again, listeners. Lunch time. Today, you have your choice of three meals—number one, number two, and the letter Z. The cafeteria staff has not told me what these three lunches are, but they do come with a drink, a main dish, a side dish, and a dessert. I’m sure that whatever it is, it will be delicious. Our lunch staff is excellent!

“While you give your body the fuel it needs to keep on moving, please enjoy [the weather](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LM8JhvfoqdA).”

Oikawa turned off his microphone, hit a few buttons, and then took off his headphones. He tucked his phone into his pocket then stretched his arms above his head as he made his way to the research room.

There was a tiny yellow sign over the blue goop in the corner that Kindaichi and Kunimi had been unable to remove. They had yet to decrust the microwave as instructed, and there were still several spiders hiding under Matsukawa’s desk from the spider cake incident.

Oikawa pulled out his lunch box from the fridge and grabbed a plastic fork from the mug on top of the microwave. Matsukawa sat up, giving Oikawa room to sit next to him on the sofa. Matsukawa tapped his peacock quill against his pad of paper while Oikawa opened his homemade lunch box. He was very glad his mother had insisted on making him lunch today because he was not feeling the mystery behind the three lunches in the cafeteria.

“This squeezed its way through a crack in the ceiling while you were talking,” Matsukawa said, holding a folded up piece of paper to Oikawa. “It’s from the principal. I translated it earlier.”

News letters, notices, and bulletins found Matsukawa quite literally. Bits of paper could be seen floating up and down the halls, some at a higher velocity than others, until they found Matsukawa, who could often be found running from particularly fast notes.

“We need to transfer that task to the first years,” Matsukawa said. “I’m really sick of paper cuts.”

“Yeah, an old man like you can’t keep this up for much longer,” Hanamaki said smartly.

Matsukawa pointed at him. “Hey, when I get my cane back from the shop, I will beat you silly, boy, just you wait. Damn youngins. No respect.”

Oikawa laughed and unfolded the note, giving Matsukawa’s translation a quick skim. He only read the first few lines, but it seemed like a standard announcement.

“So you walked to school with the transfer student?” Hanamaki prompted.

Oikawa knew this conversation could only go one way, but he answered anyways with a pleasant, “Yup! I still can’t believe he thinks aliens are _real_. I want them to be real, but I’m not delusional.”

“He’s not from around here, right?” Hanamaki said.

“I don’t think so,” Oikawa replied. “He _is_ a transfer student.”

“He plays volleyball, though,” Matsukawa said.

“And apparently he’s perfect,” Hanamaki said with a grin.

“ _Hiya_ ,” Matsukawa said with a snort of a laugh.

Those two were always so quick to bring his first interaction with Iwaizumi. Oikawa had been flustered by Iwaizumi’s appearance and he had been tired after a long day of broadcasting. He was not in his right mind. If he were in his right mind, he would not have said “hiya” to Iwaizumi.

Oikawa pointed his fork accusingly at Matsukawa then at Hanamaki. “You two are no longer allowed to talk about Iwa-chan.”

“We’re not talking about your perfect Iwa-chan,” Matsukawa said lightly, with no ill intent. “We’re talking about how you said hiya.”

Oikawa shoved his fork into his food. “So mean!”

“I bet it’s love,” Matsukawa said. He looked Hanamaki dead in the eyes. “Want to actually bet?”

“I agree,” Hanamaki said. “Love. Horrible, sordid love. I wouldn’t bet against you.”

Oikawa ignored the buzzing of his phone and the slanderous talk of Matsukawa and Hanamaki while he ate. (Eventually Matsukawa and Hanamaki got sick of getting Oikawa riled up and began to talk about the soccer game they were going to see that weekend.)

Before he knew it, lunch was over, and Oikawa was making his way back to the broadcasting room to turn off the weather.

Oikawa pulled out his phone, skimmed the messages with wide eyes, and sat down at his desk. He turned off the weather, turned on his microphone, and smiled.

“Listeners, I have some very interesting news for you regarding our math teacher. But first,” he said cheerfully, “a notice from our principal. This came earlier in our broadcast so hopefully it wasn’t too time sensitive.”

Oikawa cleared his throat and smiled as he read word for word:

“’The lizards and armadillos from the rain have clogged the gutters. Ignore the flooding in the basement, first floor, and second floor. Classes on the first and second floor should relocate to the third floor cafeteria, if they have not already moved. We hope you have moved, as your floor is flooded and we really don’t need another lawsuit.’”

Oikawa frowned. “Is that _really_ what it translated to, Matsukawa?”

He looked up through the window and saw Matsukawa shrug.

Oikawa looked at the ancient forbidden runes the principal wrote in, but he had no idea what they translated to. He knew translating runes to modern tongue was not easy, but sometimes Matsukawa took too many artistic liberties. (Or Oikawa thought he did. He did not know. He could not read the mysterious blood-colored runes.)

“Regardless, I think we get the message. Students, please avoid the basement, first floor, and second floor until the staff has taken care of the flooding.

“Now, back to news on our math teacher.”

Oikawa set down the note and picked up his phone to re-read the tweets from the interns.

 

_The math teacher is waiting in line for lunch letter Z. –Kindaichi_

_The math teacher stole the entire ketchup bottle. Kunimi said “she must really like ketchup.” –Kindaichi_

_The math teacher is eating in the faculty lounge. The staff are all staring at their desks. –Kindaichi_

_Followed teacher to the roof. It is still raining. We cannot follow because we did not bring our reinforced umbrellas. –Kindaichi_

“Kindaichi and Kunimi have followed the math teacher to the roof, but they cannot follow as they did not bring their reinforced umbrellas.

“Interns, I want you to know that getting the story is the most important thing! Please follow the math teacher so we can have quality news and—“

His phone buzzed.

 

_We don’t want concussions. Also no place to hide. She will see us. #nope_

“Kunimi, is that you typing? I’m so proud of you for taking the initiative to update our twitter! I also respect the use of that hashtag. However, as interns, you must do your job and you must be professional so _no_ hashtags, no matter how appropriate or tempting they may be!

“I let you and Kindaichi off easy when you couldn’t clean the mysterious blue goop in our research space, but today, your job is to follow the math teacher. So you _must_ follow the math teacher. Being unprepared for the weather is no excuse!”

 

_Intern Kunimi has quit. New interns wanted. #sorrynotsorry_

****

“Kunimi, you cannot quit!” Oikawa shouted overdramatically and perhaps a little too closely to his mic. He leaned back. “Please hand the phone back to Kindaichi. His updates were _much_ more professional.”

 

 _The math teacher is coming back inside._ _–Kindaichi_

_Kunimi still says he quit. –Kindaichi_

 

“Listeners, these new interns are going to put wrinkles on my beautiful face! If this happens, I ask that you, my loyal fans, do not attack them for causing such damage to my appearance. But if you want to give me some homemade creams and facemasks, I would really appreciate it! Seaweed masks are my _favorite_.”

Smiling, Oikawa picked up the microphone and began to spin back and forth slightly.

“Time my favorite segment—sports news!

“Our archery club is still looking for targets. Again, they are looking for moving and stationary targets. They want to remind you that this is a great activity to add to your resume! I am also to remind you that if no one volunteers, we will resort to a lottery system.

“Our swim team is looking for volunteers to rebuild the pool, which was destroyed when the vice-president exploded in it last year. If you are available to work several hours a day without break, food, or water, please contact the swim team captain.

“Our wrestling team requests that students keep an eye out for their mats, which disappeared over the weekend. No one has been able to find them. If you see a large pile of soft, sweaty, blood-stained blue mats with ancient symbols on them, please contact a staff member.

“Lastly, our volleyball team won their match against Karasuno this past weekend! Iwa-chan is already a regular on the team despite being a new transfer student. He’s a wing spiker. Now, if you’ve seen our perfect Iwa-chan, you’ve noticed that he doesn’t have wings. Wing spikers do not actually have wings, which makes their title a bit misleading.

“While I was narrating the match this past weekend, Iwa-chan talked to me between plays. He kept glaring at me and saying ‘shut up’ or things like ‘Why is your desk in the middle of the court? We can’t do receives if you’re in the way!’”

Oikawa smiled as he remembered the match. As students were not allowed to watch the matches (Oikawa being the exception), Oikawa narrated them. Kindaichi and Kunimi had set up his desk in the middle of the court and Oikawa had a front row seat to the match. He could hear the snakes that made up the volleyball net hissing, and he even had to block a few stray shots that came near him!

Iwaizumi was quite skilled. Oikawa would love to play with him, to send him the perfect tosses that would help Iwaizumi smash through their opponents’ arms both figuratively and literally, but that was not possible given Oikawa’s current situation.

Oikawa put on a smile. “And that’s all for sports!”

His phone buzzed several times in short succession.

 

_We’re at the end of the on third floor hall and the math teacher is approaching. –Kindaichi_

_The stairwell down to the second floor is full of water and the stairs going up are filled with the wrestling mats. –Kindaichi_

_This is why I wanted to quit #RIP_

_We’re looking at the ground. Math teacher still approaching. –Kindaichi_

Then, there was nothing.

Another update did not come for several long, painful moments. Teenagers like Kindaichi and Kunimi that grew up with technology could type faster than anyone, but they were not posting a new update.

This was just what happened with Mad Dog last year. Only it was a math teacher instead of those rabid squirrels. For all the jokes Oikawa made about putting them in danger, for how hard he pushed for the story, he didn’t want it at his cost…

Thirty seconds passed until Hanamaki knocked on the window. Hanamaki looked concerned.

Oikawa put on a smile. “Forgive me, listeners. It seems our first interns were cornered by the math teacher. My condolences to their family, friends, and the mysterious green creatures that were assigned to watch over them at birth. I believe we will have to look at applications to find new interns. If you are interested, please contact—“

His phone buzzed. Oikawa scrambled for it.

 

_Stop saying we’re dead #whatswrongwithyou_

Oikawa smiled and audibly exhaled. “Excuse me, listeners. Sorry to get your hopes up, but we will not be accepting new applications just yet!”

Oikawa set his phone in his lap, grabbed his microphone, and spun around in his chair.

“So, interns, what happened with the math teacher? Has she left you for another victim? Perhaps she was distracted?” Slightly more concerned, he asked, “Is she still near you?”

Oikawa waited several seconds for a reply.

 

_She held out her hands/wings and gave us shiny things. She thanked us for keeping her company. –Kindaichi_

_She said people ignore her when she molts and it’s lonely. She said she had fun showing us places. –Kindaichi_

_She also told us our math homework was overdue. –Kindaichi_

****

Oikawa smiled. “I told you she would say that.”

Just then, a piece of paper wiggled its way under the door, floated through the room, and then slipped under the door to the research room.

The broadcasting room was soundproof, but Oikawa watched through the window as the piece of paper shot towards Matsukawa’s face. He grabbed the piece of paper out of the air and then met Oikawa’s eyes through the window. _One minute_ , Matsukawa signaled with a finger.

“Well, listeners, it looks like Matsukawa has received another important notice. He’s bringing it to me now…”

Matsukawa came into the room, handed it over, and then returned to the research room.

Oikawa opened the note and read, word for word: “’The flooding has been resolved. When leaving school grounds, please be careful to avoid the boxes of lizards and armadillos, but feel free to adopt one!’”

Oikawa smiled. “Isn’t that thoughtful, listeners? Our principal suggesting adoption! I think this is something we should all take to heart. We can all be so selfish sometimes. Sometimes, we need to help our fellow living creatures, like lizards and armadillos falling from the sky, or the math teacher, or perhaps a transfer student who comes from a very strange place.

“Until tomorrow, my fellow students, I bid you adieu!”

Oikawa went to turn off the broadcast but was struck by a brilliant idea. He picked up the microphone, leaned back in his chair, and smiled. His voice was light and cheery like the warm feeling in his chest.

“Listeners, this next message is for Iwa-chan only, so don’t be rude and listen in! Iwa-chan, since you still don’t have an umbrella and we live so close to one another, let’s walk home together! I’ll meet you in the front lobby after this broadcast. We can talk about aliens again, or volleyball, or both!

“See you soon, Iwa-chan!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little Boxes by Walk off the Earth is actually a cover. The original was written by Malvina Reynolds back in the 60's. The song is a political satire about the development of suburbia, and associated conformist middle-class attitudes. It mocks suburban tract housing as "little boxes" of different colors "all made out of ticky-tacky," and which "all look just the same." Ticky-tacky is a reference to the shoddy material used in the construction of the houses.
> 
> Also thanks to randomprose for the idea of the rainy season and the joke about dodging things. You rock.
> 
> This fic was originally meant to have 5 chapters, which I do have planned, but I'm a bit busy and my inspiration comes and goes (this is why I tell myself to avoid publishing unfinished fics). I'm going to go ahead and call this fic finished because seeing "unfinished" bugs me now. But I may updated in the future. I may not.
> 
> Thank you for reading! I really struggled to do a mainly-dialogue fic on some characters I don't know very well. So any feedback would be very much appreciated :)
> 
> Good night, dear readers, good night.


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